16
I’ve been here for days, hunger and thirst have taken over me and I feel like I might die here but I don’t care anymore.
The memory of my sister has been haunting me, I can’t shut her out anymore, not like I could before. I’ve reopened a wound that cannot be stitched up, cannot be healed.
The deed is done and it will be the end of me.
The being in this room tricked me, it made this happen and gods, it used her voice.
Something hits me again and in that moment I stand.
Hope pulls me forward, far stronger than my despair.
“Does that mean she’s alive?” I ask the voice, my own barely a whisper.
“Is that what you seek?” The woman's voice says.
“Yes, I need to know.” My voice is so desperate.
“Is she alive? Is she okay?”
It doesn’t answer straight away and I grow more impatient by the second.
“I know you know, you told me you were all knowing just days ago.” I state, not wanting to let it wriggle its way out of this one. I need an answer.
The room is so deathly silent in the seconds that follow, I can hear my own heart beating in my chest, threatening to escape.
“Yes, Abigail lives.”
The oxygen leaves my body and I stumble back yet again.
Happiness, joy and hope all comes rushing through me at once and I grab my heart. Not sure if it can handle all the emotions flooding through me.
“It wasn’t all for nothing, she made it.” I breathe, desperation mixed with hope and happiness. It’s such a foreign feeling that I don’t even recognise my own voice.
She made it, she actually made it out alive in this cruel world. She’s out there somewhere, living because I made the right choice, it was worth it in the end.
All that death, all the pain endured, it was all worth it, she had lived.
That’s the question I had not been daring to ask for the years that I’ve had her trapped in my memory.
Whether it was worth it or whether it was all for nothing.
But this— this means it was.
She’s alive and I can keep moving, I can keep going, this will be my reason.
“Tell me the prophecy.” I demand the being, voice changed from the pathetic whimpering mess I was moments ago.
“But of course.” The being says, like it was waiting for me to ask.
“The King of Hidale will attempt his rise to power, there will be death, destruction and despair but he will not succeed, for a hybrid will wield the artifact powered by a King and destroy him when the moment comes.”
My brows knot as I stare into the orb, the simple movement somewhat painful after all my body has endured in here.
It has to mean the artifact, the one my commanders had me steal.
Wait— did Xander know about using the artifact? Is that why he had it on him at the front lines? He would have to know it’s gone by now too, that it was stolen from him.
Does he also know that I was the one who stole it?
My mind races over the prophecy, the exact wording and I realise that this thing still hasn’t told me who the prophecy is about.
“What kind of hybrid?” I ask.
“The creature is half fae, half shadow wraith.”
“A Nytherin.” I breathe.
They’re rare, I’ve never seen one.
The stories I’ve heard all say that they can bend shadows, move through whispers and go through people's minds. They’re very ominous creatures that love to stay hidden.
“And this Nytherin, they succeed?”
“In this version, yes. If the choices are made correctly and everything aligns, they succeed.”
“And if they don’t?”
“Death to all.”
A shiver runs down my spine, no pressure for this Nytherin then. “How do we find it?”
“I cannot disclose what must be discovered, the path to success is one walked on.”
“What the fuck does that even mean?” I retort, surely after everything it can give me a better answer.
“The door awaits you my girl.”
I look over my shoulder, at the door that I’m sure has just reappeared. I have to go, it’s been days and I doubt they’ll even still be there.
I’ll have to find my own way back.
I turn and place my hands on the wall, feeling around for the door weakly. I’m so hungry and so tired.
I find the door and exhale a small sigh of relief.
My hands struggle but I will the last remnants of my energy and give the stone a push.
I turn back around and take one last look at the room that had become home to my horrors.
I feel the tears beg to come back as I remember her, remember the nights I spent crying and when I was numb, not realising time was escaping me.
I push the stone door open and welcome the cool dark tunnels that appear in front of me, for they lead somewhere.
I’m no longer trapped.